


The Piano Teacher

by starfishies



Category: Classical Music History, Classical Music RPF, Composer Fiction - Fandom, Composers - Fandom, Historical AU - Fandom, Mozart - Fandom, wolfgang amadeus mozart - Fandom, wolfgang mozart - Fandom
Genre: Based on real people, Classical Music, F/M, Historical AU, mozart - Freeform, real history
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 08:33:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15239502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starfishies/pseuds/starfishies
Summary: Barbara Ployer is a wealthy heiress who's passion is music.Following the death of her mother as a young teen, she was soon sent to live with her well connected uncle in Vienna during the beginning of what would be Wolfgang Mozart's career breakthrough.As one of his real life students, Barbara became a fast favourite of the great master due to her considerable skill at the keyboard and her love of great music.This story is inspired by true events.





	The Piano Teacher

 

 

When my mother passed, it was a quick decision that saw me sent off to live out what remained of my teenage years in Vienna. My father, ever the business man, hastily abandoned me to his brother - a representative of Salzburg in his majesty's royal court. My father hadn't the heart to keep me around after Mama's death, for I was only a too fresh reminder of his dearly departed wife. To him I was a living, breathing reflection of what he had lost.   
  
Melancholy aside, I also suspect that with me out of his affairs, father would feel free to entertain a mistress, and perhaps in time - to take a new wife. I may have been a young girl at the time, but I was by no means unaware of a man's intentions. A bachelor of substantial fortune such as my father was sure to attract a great deal of feminine attention, even with a young adolescent heiress in tow. I would never begrudge my father of such a tactic in order to find himself a new wife. Sending me to Vienna would only serve to facilitate his plan for both of us to move forward, and perhaps more importantly, provide him with the opportunity to finally produce a son. A boy who would eventually carry on his good name and usurp him in the family business.   
  
It was a move that I was not entirely opposed to, having been limited to the rural lifestyle of our village for much of my young life. Salzburg was as dry and mundane as the talentless dressmakers and lacklustre theatres. For a girl like myself, with a heart full and with a burning passion for the arts, I felt as if I were slowly being starved to death. Coming soon to fifteen, Salzburg had left me lusting for something far more cosmopolitan than what those narrow cobble streets could offer.   
  
By my birth, my father's timber business had been blessedly fruitful. Its profits had been enough to supply him with the means to build a beautiful home, dress his wife and child as he pleased and to employ enough servants to keep us well fed and fashionably coiffed. Befitting of a young lady, I had been schooled in Italian and in French, taught ride and to do simple sums. I had been given daily clavier lessons since I could walk, and that had developed into what was my most notable skill. I enjoyed music, and found it a rather pleasant way to pass the time. I had kept several tutors over the years, some sweet and others strict. My musical rudiments were well enforced, with scales and mordents to improve technique, and sight reading for added challenge. I could play most pieces assigned, and yet still thirsted for more.  
  
Upon arrival in Vienna I was quick to request that my beloved clavier be moved into Uncle's grand room, and that my lessons continue at once - with a well schooled tutor, one worthy of my considerably talented fingers. Knowing little of music and being more distracted by the gossip at court than by my tailoring and tutoring requests, my Uncle was easily persuaded of the idea over our hurried daily meals. He promised that his first priority would be to find me a suitable music instructor. But lately, he seemed to have forgotten that promise.  
  
"Uncle, the dressmaker is in this afternoon and he has promised me striped silk for my new dress - he assures me that stripes are the latest fashion."  
  
I watched him from across the table, his eyes roved over a freshly opened letter with concern, his thoughts were clearly elsewhere.  
  
I sighed, poking the silverware into the soft side of my boiled egg. Perhaps it was too early to discuss high fashion, Uncle seemed already absorbed in his day's work.  
  
"This morning the frisseur mentioned a party at the palace. He said that it is planned for later this month, will you be attending?"  
  
Perhaps my change of subject would catch his attention.  
  
His concentration broke as the maid dipped to pour more fresh coffee in his cup, "Sir" she curtsied politely and resumed her place. Uncle suddenly narrowed his eyes in my direction, as if seeing me for the first time. A highly intellectual man, he had a tendency to lose himself in his thoughts, giving him the appearance of a mad man at times.  
  
"My dear?" His brow was raised in confusion, he had clearly not heard a word.  
  
_Business, business, business - it's what keeps the food on table and the clothes on our backs.  
  
_ Uncle was more like my father than I cared to admit.  
  
"A ball, at the palace?" I reminded him with curious arch of a golden brow.  
  
He folded the lengthy letter down, placing it atop the pile that teetered at the edge of the dining table, "Yes, the Emperor is hosting a celebration, it's true."  
  
Stiffing at the prospect, my eyes suddenly widened with curiosity, "Will there be music?"  
  
He shrugged as he finally cut into his meal, "I suppose so"  
  
"Will there be dancing?"  
  
Laying his cutlery down, he frowned sternly at me with a shake of his head, "Not for you. You're too young, and an unmarried lady of title should never attend such an event unaccompanied anyways. Besides - what interest would you have in such things?"  
  
_Oh only the dresses - the hair - the music!  
  
Not to mention the dancing..._  
  
I scoffed indignantly and crossed my arms over my sorrowfully modest chest, "I'm interested only in the music, and besides - I have no title. And," I paused, thinking of something rather adult to say,  "perhaps one of the musicians would be able to recommend a reputable tutor for my clavier lessons."  
  
He shook his head while he chewed, reaching for his utensils once more, "Court musicians are dogs dear Barbara. Not the sort that you should be conversing with, some of them are known to be rogues." He patted the linen handkerchief to his lips, "Besides, the Emperor has already provided me the contact of his court composer for the task. His Majesty gave me his personal recommendation, saying there was no one more qualified than Herr Salieri to tutor my most darling and talented niece."  
  
He gave me a fatherly wink, believing he'd said enough to finally satiate my curiosity  
  
"The personal tutor to the Emperor himself? Oh Uncle!" This was certainly delightfully dizzying news, "When will my lessons begin?"   
  
This was most definitely a grand opportunity - to study with one of the most respected pedagogues in all of Vienna, and the personal tutor to the Emperor himself! I hoped that he would be impressed by my refined skill and my diligently practiced technique. From my listening at the few parties I had accompanied my uncle to, my own playing was already superior to most of Vienna's aristocratic ladies. Though from what I had gathered thus far - this was by no means a significant musical achievement.  
  
"I must begin preparation at once!" I announced aloud  
  
Uncle spoke between mouthfuls, quickly distracted once again, "Maestro Salieri agreed to call on you tomorrow, mid morning." He waved the maid off with disinterest as she cleared his plates with another gentle curtsey.  
  
"Tomorrow?" my breath hitched  
  
"Yes, but he's a frightfully busy man so please, try not to keep him too late."  
  
I flew up from the table in a sudden gather of skirts and trotted to the door in a whirr of excitement, pausing only to look over my shoulder at the look of completion shock on Uncle's face.  
  
"Oh!" I grinned, remembering my thanks and running to kiss him gratefully on his ruddy cheek, "Thank you - thank you!" I was practically giddy.  
  
A tutor? And one of such reputation!   
  
The disappointment of my Uncle's stern denial regarding my attendance at the Emperor's ball had quickly subsided in light of the musical news! I no longer had time for a ball, I had to practice - and quickly!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The following morning, I woke before dawn just as the maid was drawing the curtains.   
  
"Good morning mistress" she spoke softly as she tucked the heavy drapes behind the ornate keepers. She was looking somewhat apologetic for having woken me.  
  
"Please pull my satin dress and a clean petticoat for me this morning - and I'll need you to pin my hair after I bathe, and oh -  I'll take my breakfast upstairs today!" much to her shock I was already up and wrapping myself in my dressing gown. There was no time for grievances, I shot out of bed - extravagant lounging could wait on another day.  
  
"Madame" she raised a curious eyebrow at my sudden action, truthfully I was never much of a morning person.  
  
"I have a very important music lesson this morning and I would like to begin preparations at once - so quickly, heat some bath water."  
  
She cocked her head a little, "A bath?"  
  
"Maestro Salieri is court composer to the Emperor himself - this is a man who is held in the highest musical esteem, bathing is certainly a good place to start."  
  
She only blinked back at me  
  
"And you're still waiting for....?" I was becoming irritated, was it so much to ask for warm water? My God, she was acting as if I had told her I was going to run away with the man!  
  
"Yes madame" she quickly found herself and ducked out of the room with the ash bin in tow, making haste for the water pump. Watching her retreat, I returned to my dressing table and began the tedious task of brushing out my long mat of tangles. It was still perfumed with powder from the most recent dinner party in which Uncle and his associates from court had discussed the newest theatrical production.   
  
_"Yes - well what can you expect? The man's barely twenty!"  
  
"And from Salzburg no less!"   
  
The table laughed raucously  
  
I sat quietly, seated between a coterie of well bred ladies, fanning myself.  
  
"All jokes aside, Herr Mozart is a musician of considerable talent."  
  
"Well if that opera of his is any indication, I think he may have a future here in Vienna."  
  
"Quite right"  
  
Listening to the men discuss the opera, I felt a pang of jealousy. I too wished to critique and banter over new commissions, though my Uncle had forbade me from attending. Besides, he had a delightful young mistress with which to attend - and she would likely make a far better companion than myself for I was only interested in the music.   
  
Above all the hooting and business talk, I would surely strain to hear the tune - he had patted my hand sympathetically before leaving that evening, his pretty young mistress in tow._  
  
_"Not to worry dear Barbara, nobody goes to the opera for the music anyway!"_  
  
  
  


 

 

 

  
  
Soaking in the bath I considered what piece to play for Maestro Salieri. Something that would demonstrate my skills without taxing my fingers. I needed to present my best possible work, in order to deem myself worthy of such a repetiteur!   
  
"Scales, scales, scales..." I whispered to myself, sinking lower in the water. My fingertips had shriveled and softened, signalling the end of my repose, it was a fascinating occurrence to be sure.  
  
"Perhaps something from the Messiah" I pondered out loud  
  
Tapping out a pattern along the bath's edge, I suddenly called out for the maid.  
  
"I'm quite ready to be done, bring my gown."  
  
Shuffling in with her arms laden with a rumple of heavy tapestry and silk, she curtsied as I rose from the water, "Madame" she ducked her head.  
  
She carefully held the garment for me to dress.  
  
Slipping the robe over my shoulders I finally caught my frightful appearance in the mirror, "You'll need to curl my hair."  
  
Her eyes were fixed to the floor as I covered myself, still dripping with bath water.  
  
"Ya ma'am."  
  
She blushed, shuffling to sort out the rags for curling.  
  
I was no longer a child - which was most noticeable while bathing. It had been a few years now that maids seemed to flush or cast their eyes away when assisting with the bath. Inside I felt no different, but somehow - I was being treated as such.   
  
I gathered my robe close and shivered in the cool air  
  
"Let's begin"  
  
  
  


 

 

 

 

 

 

  
  
  
By the time she had finished the necessary curling and pinning of my hair, it was nearly mid morning and my corseting was rudely interrupted by a tentative knock at my door.  
  
"Madame Ployer, your tutor has arrived, I shall I have him wait downstairs."  
  
Holding my waist as the laces were sharply tugged into place. I drew a quick breath as she gave a final sharp yank, "Oof! That's plenty!" I gasped. Any tighter and I'd faint before the first set of arpeggios!  
  
"I'll quickly help you with your gown" she whispered, rushing to grab the petticoats from their hooks  
  
"Tell him I'll be right down!" I called over my shoulder as her nimble fingers worked to tie my panniers in place, followed shortly by my heavy skirts.  
  
"Yes madame" came the obedient reply through the door, followed by the sharp click of heeled shoes as he returned to inform my guest of the continued wait  
  
I suddenly became quite nervous!  
  
Though, perhaps it was the tightening of my corset that was leaving me light headed  
  
Once dressed, I quickly checked my reflection in the mirror.  
  
_Elegant  
  
_ I nodded to myself, smoothing my stomacher with a shaking hand  
  
"Shall I accompany you downstairs?" the maid offered as she tidied the dressing area  
  
"No, I'm fine thank you "  
  
She curtsied and turned to gather the bed linens for washing, I could surely make it down the stairs on my own.  
  
I hoped.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Picking my way down the staircase with great caution, I felt the pile of curls atop my head begin to sway.   
  
"Oh.." I held my breath  
  
_Head high!  
  
_ I coached myself with each step, lightly running my hand along the polished banister as I reminded myself to keep my chin up and my steps light.  
  
"Mademoiselle Ployer," my hand was soon guided by one of our footmen, "he's in the drawing room"  
  
"Thank you" I whispered under my breath, feeling my hands begin to sweat. I hoped that my years of ardent practice would lend themselves well to this moment.  
  
"Mademoiselle Ployer," he announced, standing door side as I floated into the room with the greatest austerity I could muster. _Noble lady, noble lady, noble lady.....  
  
_ As I lay eyes on him, I was oddly disappointed.  
  
He was quite small, which was hardly masked by his voluminous fine hair that had been carefully coiffed to excuse his lack of formal headdress. _No wig?_ An odd choice for a man who had been described as quite conservative in nature. His natural hair was a enviable shade of reddish blonde, with a slight wave that was nearly tamed into place with a broad silk ribbon that lay against the nape of his neck.  
  
His wardrobe helped to distract from his plain features. His dress was of embroidered silk, and of  considerable quality. He must have a fine tailor, perhaps he frequents the same man who dresses Emperor Joseph himself! He sported a neatly trimmed waistcoat that was fitted with fine gold buttons and intricate beading. It was nipped closely at the waist, displaying his slender figure. Part of me had always picture Herr Salieri as a bit of a portly fellow, and yet this man was rather lean. For the moment, I was glad to have dressed respectably that morning.  One should never be outdone by the help!  
  
Massaging  a goose grey tricorn between his hands, he looked rather bashful for the moment. He had a young face with large expressive eyes. From a distance I could not be certain, but it appeared that we may be measurable tete a tete, despite the extra few inches his golden hair charitably lent.   
  
"Madamoiselle" he obediently bowed in a sweepingly dramatic fashion as a little cherub smile appeared upon his face. _  
  
_ "Madame Ployer, a Herr Mozart, court musician to the Emperor and clavier tutor"  
  
My smile suddenly fell at the doorman's introduction  
  
"Herr Mozart?" I questioned - suddenly thrown from my senses.  
  
Where was Herr Salieri?  
  
I quickly raised my fan to disguise my disappointment.  
  
"At your service Madame" the little man bowed once more before righting himself, tucking his hat beneath his arm  
  
"What of Maestro Salieri?" I quickly looked to the doorman who only shrugged, "Oh!"   
  
"He has sent me in his stead, Madamoiselle, as he has been struggling with an infection of the inner ear lately - he's quite indisposed, but he wanted to ensure that you were to receive instruction as promised."  
  
His Salzburger accent was apparent immediately, perhaps the connection was through my Uncle.  
  
I stood, using my fan to hide my disdain for the situation. Not knowing what to say, I simply stared at the Maestro's questionable replacement with great curiosity. _Mozart?...  
  
_ It was some time before I thought of a relevant reply  
  
"Forgive me, but - your credentials sir?"  
  
_Certainly not on par with those of a court composer!  
  
_ His inviting face suddenly turned cold and his shoulders stiffened, he had the look of a man insulted.  
  
"Madame?" he practically scoffed, as if questioning the gall of my query.  
  
I lowered my fan and stared back at him with a serious expression, I was not some nitwit of a housewife nor was I to be his next soft headed aristocratic patron, if he were here to tutor me in Salieri's stead - then he'd have to prove his worth.  
  
He cleared his throat, thinking better of challenging me. Perhaps he realized my seriousness.  
  
"Well...." he began to stroke the felt of the hat beneath his arm absently, "I have performed for practically all of Europe Madame, even King George himself - by royal decree"  
  
I stood, listening.  
  
_And?_  
  
He raised an eyebrow at my lack of enthusiasm and continued  
  
"I have written many well regarded pieces for solo piano, and for orchestra - as well as a few operas, Idomeneo being most recent. It premiered last month with all of Vienna's elite in attendance by invitation of Emperor Joseph himself. As a lady of great noble standing and of considerable musical taste, I am curious to hear your opinion on the production?"  
  
My lips twitched and I narrowed my eyes at him  
  
Was he being insolent?  
  
Could he know that Uncle had forbade me from attending? Or did he rightfully assume - as any wealthy lady would have - that I had indeed attended his production?  
  
"Alas, _sir_ ," I looked him squarely in the eye, "I did not have the pleasure."  
  
He regarded for a moment, seemingly unsure as to how to proceed.  
  
I too felt uneasy, and albeit a little defeated by the declaration. What noble lady of musical interest would miss an opera at the invitation of the Emperor? It _was_ a fair question, and surely his opinion on my musicality would now remain under query. Any true musician would be interested in the latest productions most surely!  
  
_But one who is yet a child - perhaps not.  
  
_ I narrowed my eyes at him, placing my hands at my waist.   
  
I did _not_ like where this was going. _  
  
_ "Well" he began to look about the room, as if the previous conversation had been lost. His eyes were scanning the portraits and furnishings, "shall we begin then?"  
  
His ability to change the subject so dramatically was astonishing - though the fire in the pit of my belly was urging me to argue, I thought better of it. What would Uncle think if he heard from the servants that I had chased my newly acquired tutor out before the first note?   
  
I could hear his words already... _Perhaps clavier lessons are not the right thing for you right now Barbara..._  
  
Swallowing my pride, I turned to the door man with a nod and he deftly closed the doors, leaving Herr Mozart and I to our first lesson.  
  
He cocked his head at the click of the doors, seemingly relieved to still be standing before me. He then caught my eye and cleared his throat, laying his hat upon the clavier and gesturing for my hand.  
  
"Please," his pleasant smile had once again returned as he pulled the chair from the instrument, "be seated." His gestures were gentle and welcoming, as if we were starting anew.   
  
Whatever judgement he'd already managed to make of me had obviously been swift, and now it seemed all but forgotten.  
  
Remembering his place as servant, his stiff and mannerly disposition soon resurfaced, "Now," he placed a score upon the stand, "let's begin with some scales, two hands if you can manage - emphasis on correct finger placement."  
  
And suddenly it was all business.  
  
With my skirts piled around me, he'd barely had room to turn my pages. He leaned cautiously over, glancing down at my fingers with an odd look of curiosity. Once through several short exercises he stood back, hands clasped behind his back as he studied the woven rug beneath him.  
  
"Madamoiselle Ployer," he began, still staring at the floor, "you have obviously studied clavier for some time - do you have any repertoire you could play for me? Something to give me an idea as to what you can do?"  
  
_Here is your moment Barbara!  
  
_ I sat a little taller, hands folded in my lap, "Of course"  
  
Handel would be an excellent choice - challenging, yet melodic and highly recognizable. Surely Herr Mozart would appreciate my conservative choice of subject and phrasing. I would have played no differently than had Herr Salieri been present, I knew that the Messiah was universally respected.  
  
Losing myself in the mellismatic passages, I withdrew from the moment - barely noticing as Herr Mozart stepped close enough to lean against the clavier's top, perching his chin in his hand. My fingers flew over the keys with great aptitude, evidence of my considerable skill. I may not be the finest pianist, but I was certainly quite capable.   
  
Upon resolution of the final chord, I lifted my hands - staring down at them with a smile of satisfaction. I was quite pleased with my performance, regardless of Herr Mozart's opinion - I suddenly remembered my joy of music making. _This is why I play._   
  
Mozart remained silent, watching me with great fascination. His eyes were half hooded and his face held a dream like quality that soften his features, giving him a most childlike appearance.  
  
"Bellissimo" he murmured, his voice almost as dreamlike as his eyes, "mia caro Barbarina"  
  
I flushed a little, squirming uncomfortably under his suddenly casual reply  
  
He smiled, moving to step closer, reaching for my hand and stroking it gently.   
  
He seemed mesmerized - and I too, was feeling a little heady under his attentions.  
  
Suddenly the door was opened and he quickly jumped back, clasping his hands respectfully behind his back. His face was ghostly white and he quickly fixed his eyes to the floor once more.  
  
With my heart beating in my throat, I couldn't help but turn to see the sudden cause for distraction.  
  
Uncle strode in with a broad smile, arms open, "Herr Mozart - how did she do? Isn't she quite something?" His voice was loud and brash in such a quiet space  
  
Mozart bowed slightly, with a nervous cough, "Yes - yes sire, very good."  
  
He quickly snatched his hat from the clavier, bowing to me without so much as a smile. His stone like expression had returned.  
  
"So tomorrow then? She will be expecting your return."  
  
"Indeed" He perched the tricorn atop his head and closed his scores, tucking them under his arm, "I'll call around the same time."  
  
I stared, mouth agape - was this not the same man who moments earlier had been stroking my hand?  
  
"Madamoiselle Ployer" he bowed once more, "Sir"   
  
And with a curt tip of his hat - he was gone.  
  
  
  
I stared at my Uncle, wide eyed and stiff.  
  
  
"And so?" he watched Herr Mozart making his way up through the garden from the window, "Do you like him?"  
  
  
I wasn't entirely sure what he was asking  
  
  
  
  
"Indeed" was all I could manage.

 

 

 


End file.
